


Ultimately.

by TurnipRecipes



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Big Brother Sans (Undertale), Conspiracy Theories, Deja Vu, Dystopia, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hallucinations, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Love Confessions, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Alphys/Undyne (Undertale), Nightmares, Nonbinary Chara (Undertale), Nonbinary Frisk (Undertale), Post, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Undertale Genocide Route, References to Depression, Romantic Fluff, Sans (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Secret Admirer, Sign Language, Skeleton Puns, Slow Burn, Swearing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27603233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurnipRecipes/pseuds/TurnipRecipes
Summary: Sans wasn't always like this. He enjoyed making terrible puns at the local pub, pestering his younger brother, chattering his days away. But ever since the repetition of resets begun, Sans couldn't afford to care anymore. His heartfelt god-awful puns didn't feel as endearing, sleeping became preyed by reliving nightmares, and hallucinations kept his paranoia levels elevated constantly. Sans was forced into the child's-played charade within an endless hourglass.Certainly, isn't it too much of a coincidence for such circumstances to relapse?
Relationships: Grillby/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	1. Bad Nights

Within the tranquil sky night, entranced countless souls' slumber. All expect for one.

"Jesus..."

Gasping for air desperately, Sans could only feel the adrenaline accelerating, as he clenched onto his stained shirt for dear life, drenched with an abnormal amount of sweat, heaving strained huffs and puffs. Gradually stabilizing his breathing pattern, his right pupil withdrawing the intensive cyan glow, returning to his neutral state of miniature white pupils. If it wasn't for the sudden event that occurred, his amicable safe space of a room, would've seemed less uncanny and disturbing, merging his war zone with reality, he thought. Sans could only place massage the dreadful migraine away.

This wasn't new to Sans, his peaceful nights were inevitably engulfed by disastrous nightmares'. Every time he dozed off, his nightmares' constantly tortured him ruthlessly, to the point when Sans willingly avoided his short naps and nights rest, just to diverge himself away from the dreadful night terrors. And every single time, he would experience the unpleasant tension digging into his soul, encountering the exact scenario of a knife's blade lodging towards him, forever embarking a thin slice wound into his sternum. Even if the figure was unrecognizable, and even if the being that tortured him every night, identity's unknown to his perspective, Sans always felt a trembling sensation within his bones every time the nightmares' conflicted him.

With the constant relapsed dreams occurring, Sans couldn't differentiate the comparisons of his reality; whether it was just his lack of sleep causing hallucinations, or his old job finally paid off.

His life wasn't always living a life fulfilled by misery. He enjoyed making terrible puns that'll always return a bright smile, bugging his younger brother with overused puns, consuming his beloved condiment, ketchup. He was living his days to the fullest, when suddenly one night, his world turned into shambles, relapsing the same day for an unknown period. This was the 115th time Sans had awoken from an appalling nightmare.

Knowing that he wouldn't get much sleep either way, Sans slowly creaked away from his mattress, his spine unbuckling after a deep stretch, grunting beneath his breath as he made his way towards the door knob. Adjusting the door slightly, Sans peaked his head through the door, listening for any signs of life, detecting nothing but the delayed ticks of clocks. Sighing with relief, he allowed the door to swing freely, leaving his designated home abode, to the kitchen. The unsteady steps returned a lingering echo, reverberating into Sans's ear canal, immediately twisting his body behind him as he clasped onto the rails, searching for something in the darkness. But nobody was there. 

Greeted by the flickering lights, Sans grunted by the sudden light pouring onto his skull, ignoring the flickering blaze by grabbing a bottle of ketchup, to satisfy his tastes, per usual. Continuing to chug the sweet delight, Sans noticed a note scribbled with chunky letters, taped onto the middle of the refrigerator.

_"To my dear brother,_

_The Great Papyrus has decided to spend his night with Undyne to practice sparing and making delicious spaghetti. There's some left over spaghetti in the fridge if you're hungry!_

_-The Great Papyrus"_

That would've explained why familiar snores weren't heard.

Of course, how could Sans forget. Ever since Papyrus joined the Royal Guards, he had been taking extra lessons with Undyne, sparing practicing on magic ability. Instead of spending time sparing with Undyne during Friday afternoons, Papyrus rescheduled his sleepovers during the weekends. Meaning that he won't talk with Papyrus as often, but whatever floats his little brother's boat. Ever since his younger brother's dream goal had been achieved, Papyrus focused on capturing bypassing human's via puzzles or combat battle more frequently. Although he knew the warrior's intentions were sincerely pure. Witnessed her random acts of kindness towards his younger brother, from cooking dishes together and having slumber parties together rather than battling, allowed himself to assume her purpose to never wanted to spar with him in the beginning. But Sans knew deep down that someone would proceed the deed of unravelling the unspeakable purpose of the Royal Guards. 

However, Sans did miss pestering his younger brother.

With the plain bottle leaving him dissatisfied, Sans thought it would be better to take a stroll in the silent night. Slipping onto his tattered jacket, taking a mental note of his ragged attire. Maybe it’ll clear away the disturbing nightmares, Sans thought, before his worn out slippers entwined with the crisp snow. 

Snowdin had been accustomed to treacherous weathers; blizzards, hails, snowstorms. Sans never liked the weather. He despised the cold with passion, throwing excuses to his younger brother of how he captured a contagious flu, or he had a stomach bug. But either way, he would have to face the outside world once again, rattling down to his inner core, reminding him of his horrific tribulation of a nightmare. The humorist knew very well of his capability within, how he had the ability to transport himself to any location, when all he had to do was imagine the area descriptively.

But lately, he couldn't. He simply couldn't. Every time he tried to, the aftermath would've always led to one resolution: a thin slice blemishing his soul in a painful manner. Although the discomfort was minor, thinking about it created an uneasy tension of the aftermath.

Gripping onto his jacket's fabric, Sans battled the heavy snow colliding with him, unsteadily huffing out breath's of warmth, walking small steps of uneasiness. Howling once more, the snowstorm blustered his balance, struggling to steadily walk, fighting the harsh clashes of snow, wind roaring mighty cries

He really needed a new jacket.

Pushing the door open, the wave of liveliness within the pub dispersed the thoughts, as the warming nature emerged, packed by monster’s in every seat, leaving one reserved spot that no one dared to occupy - a stool in the middle amongst the others - for the comedian. 

_“Sans! Welcome back buddy!”_

_“It’s been sometime, where have ya been?”_

_“Our favorite skeleton has returned back from the dead!”_

Seating down, Sans requested his usual meal, whilst chattering awful puns to regulars, flashing his signature smile, mesmerizing a crowd towards him; essentially, he was the light bulb that fueled, preying on the satisfaction of those around him.

Grillby’s was filled with eccentric monsters', consuming vast amounts of liquor and dishes, whilst jazz instruments strummed loud enough to mascaraed the laughter's' chiming. Each individual table either hovering their bodies over poker cards, knocked out cold, or both. The room hadn't changed one bit, Sans pondered, viewing the sight of decorated with cobwebs in each corner, floorboards creaking to each step taken, window dirtied by smeared finger tips, the jukebox forced into loops of jazz instrumental; nothing had changed for the last month. Nether less, surrounded by such sweet scent of booze blossoming, and subtle laughter decorating the atmosphere, Sans yearned for the mellow feeling of warmth.

“Nice seeing you again Sans, your company has been missed."

"Sure has been, Grillbz. Tell me, what's on the agenda today?"

"Well... Apart from constant bargains for free drinks, and wrestling a regular out my bar, since they wouldn't leave without ruining the bar with puke, I'd say I've seen better days." 

Flipping through the menu, Sans couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

"I simply must ask out of curiosity. What are you doing wake at 3 in the morning? You usually arrive around 10pm.”

The flame creature pondered towards him, hands occupied by wiping cups, displaying a shy smile. No matter how many shifts the individual works, nor unpleasant customer ordeals he encounters, Grillby never lost his spark of kindness. Sans marveled his capability of composure.

Spinning his head to the mechanical object, double glancing at the clock. He knew time favored him no longer.

The comedian could only frown, sighing deeply. Had it been that late already? This wasn’t Sans’s first time staying past midnight, but it certainly was concerning to note how late Sans had stayed up; the cycle of nightmares’ never have toned down, and supposedly, never will. Offered by the bartender his usual, he willingly swigged his endeared drink.

_"You have to be bold enough to lie through this one.”_

Amongst the booming jazz whirling from the jukebox, the shrill laughter of nearby customers, Sans felt the collision of unnerving chills, snapping away his thoughts. Sans leaned his head to the side, slightly eavesdropping onto the conversation next to him. Considering on leaving customers conversation alone, phrases of jumbled words caught his attention. 

_“I’m telling you, I’m not lying."_

_"Well? "_

_"Haven’t you heard? The mass murders reports? Nearby the Ruins?'_

_"Explain in more detail."_

_"Do you live under a rock or somethin'?"_

"The withered bird gulped down every last drop of his drink, before releasing a satisfied sigh."

_"The disappearances'. Have you seriously not noticed?"_

_"Well, not exactly..."_

_"I wouldn't blame you though. But considering MTT News serious message, aired last night, it's safe to say that this situation is somethin' we'll need to be wary of, Politics."_

_"First of all, why does everyone call me that? My name isn't Politics, I just like talking about politics. And second, I genuinely hope y_ _ou're lying, Snowdrake."_

_"Not this time. It really is terrifying..."_

_“Let's hope that this is all some child's-play myth, I hope that shopkeeper bunny is fine..._ _"_

_"Looks like someone has a crush~"_

_The bear laced his jacket around his face, poorly shielding the burning fire blossoming from his cheeks._

_"Do. Not... Maybe..."_

Loosing interest within the conversation, the creature’s amongst their own conversation, while Sans reverted back to his theories.

Why would someone commit such action? In the course of his life, situations endangering his and Papyrus's life, occurred rarely. Simple mishaps of unknown species robbing the local bookstore, or rambunctious teenagers teasing the elderly, such events deemed little danger to the skeleton brother's livelihood. Considering whatever force is eliminating innocent lives ,sparked vigorous tension within his sternum. Sans could feel the pressure straining his soul, multitasking his distress between nightmares, as well as his and Papyrus's safety.

Is that why so many Royal Guards members are here today?

Hearing the collision of victorious laughter's', and late night patrols, didn’t need an answer to approve his suspicion. Sensing his socket's beginning to hollow once again, he proceeds to keep his head down, shoving his hands into his pockets deeper. Feeling the unnerving shiver masking all over his body, replying puns to those who requested, his permanent smile forcefully widening.

“Sans? Sans! You alright? You seem quieter this evening.”

Releasing his phalanges’ grip within his worn out jacket, Sans lifted his head, meeting the concerned eyes of the bartender. He was close enough to inspect every detail on his face; examining the slight wrinkles creasing, flames heat wavering towards him, flickering a soft auburn shade, halting cleaning utilities. 

“Pshh, I’m fine, don’t worry about me Grillbz,” Sans brushed him off, shrugging, as he prepared to leave.

“Here you go, Sans. Your usual. It’s good to see you again, friend.”

Grillby offered a small smile, before pushing a bottle of the skeleton’s favorite condiments, across the counter.

“Heh, you certainly know how to sneak the good stuff, wouldn’t want Paps to _ketchup_ knowing this. Goodnight, Grillbz.”

Sans waved him a final farewell, before blending into the storm.

Sans didn’t sleep that night.


	2. Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Company is best left with those you cherish. 
> 
> Hold them tight.

The rough surface of the Ruins door, was once again met with a bony knuckle. 

“Knock knock.” 

“Who’s there?”

“Dishes.”

“Dishes who?”

“ _Dishes_ a bad joke.”

“God, you’re an absolute genius. A terrible one too.”

"Heh, I know."

"Thank goodness we aren't washing any."

"And why is that?"

"I'm afraid we wouldn't stay _in sink~_ "

Synchronizing the stranger's laughter beyond the door, the warmth of her hearty rhythm felt too contagious. A typical afternoon pun session, never ceased to endlessly entertain the skeleton. Everyday, he would laze around the ends of Snowdin, stationed in front of a large purple door, reserving the door for practicing his horrific jokes upon. He projected his endless shenanigans of knock-knock jokes onto the abandoned door, every afternoon, when the temperature decreases moderately, and the snowflakes gladiate motionlessly towards the tip of his nose. 

And ever since, Sans and the stranger returned appalling puns, back and forth. The cycling continuing. 

“You alright, Lady?” 

“Hm? What makes you say that?”

“Dunno. Your voice sounds raspy. Or it’s just my lack of hearing, am I right?”

“It’s not your hearing, I guarantee.”

"I'm right?"

"Indeed, fellow comedian."

"Well, if there's something bothering you, let it out. I'm all ears. No pun intended."

"Fellow comedian, could you do me a favor, and keep this conversation confidential?

"Solemnly swear, cross my soul."

“Alright, well. Where do I begin? There’s been… something bothering me. And something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

The stranger inhaled deeply.

“There’s a child that I took in, and I care a lot about them.”

“Go on.”

“It’s just that, they and I had an argument. Just this week. They haven't spoken to me today, which is understandable. But now, now they've disappeared! Vanished. And unfortunately, I fear the worst for them.”

Now her words have intrigued Sans. “What makes you say that? If you're worried about their disappearance, I can call the Royal Guards to search-”

"NO! I mean, no thank you. A-Apologies, but please don't."

The stranger echoed a shallow sigh, before continuing on. Sans couldn't waver the feeling so dread. "And why not?"

“A yellow flower.”

“A yellow flower?”

Beyond the door, Sans couldn't but sympathize with the stranger; her quivering breathe couldn't cease to prevail; her voice was struggling to remain calm.

“I-I know I sound insane. But it’s true. You have to believe me!

Sans thought long and hard. Within the lands of Snowdin, barely any plant life was seen, considering temperature wise, and the difficult adaptation. No white flowers, no purple flowers, no orange flowers. Especially yellow flowers.

"My intuitions _scream_ that flower has bewitched my child into leaving my arms. And yet again, too late to listen to myself.”

Has thus person gone insane? Or was she telling the truth. Sans didn't know her truth yet. “I believe you.”

A relieved sigh slithered out the door.

“Coming from your kind nature, I believe that you wouldn’t twist your words. You're not the type of person to. Truly.”

“I give my sincerest gratitude, stranger.”

“Sans.”

“Sans? I suppose the mystery pun-master has finally revealed sans - ational information about their identity.”

“Oh hush lady, partial info. Only to you.”

The two of them shared a short chuckle, before returning to the reminisced silence.

“I would love to stay and chat, but my brother, Papyrus-"

“Wait!”

“Hm?"

Halting his movement, Sans spun his skull towards the Ruins door. He never noticed how grimy the exterior was. His pupils trailed along the prickled thorny stems, accompanied by faltered withered weeds, consuming the door whole, leaving nothing but an ancient artifact for Snowdin residents to admire; the door beyond discovery.

“Before I go, may you promise me something?”

“You know I’m not good with promises.”

“Please, I’m begging you.”

“...”

Amongst the wind’s rumbles, tree branch collisions, Sans couldn’t feel the icy temperature more chilling than her words. Such promise was a difficult oath to allegiance, Sans knew. He knew the rejected offer would bring him an eternal swarm of unease.

“If a human ever passes this door, promise me that you’ll protect them at all costs.”

“I’m not sure, lady. It’s against the policy to-”

“PLEASE,” the strained voice cried. 

This was the first time the comedian ever heard her voice so raw, so anguished. Sloppy thuds collided against the door repetitively, choked inaudible cries escaped. 

“Please, I'm begging you. Give them something I never had the opportunity to give. Guide them away from the dangers of the cruel world. If I lose them, I don’t know what I’ll do. I'm so lost...”

All the dwarfed skeleton could do, was sympathetically sigh. 

He knew the crushing feeling of hopelessness. He wasn't a stranger to that. Sans met the calls of a parental figure, desperately salvaging their child, instead of a woman who humored terrible comedy.

“... Promise.”

* * *

"SANS!" 

Jolting awake, Papyrus saved him from the trouble of confrontational dread, once again. Immediately removing his forearms away from his napping position swiftly, he greeted the displeased expression of his younger brother.

"Hey bro. Wassup?"

Sans would nap during patrol. Papyrus would disprove his actions. Sans would distract Papyrus with awful jokes. Papyrus would leave. The cycle repeats. The cycle Sans grew too familiar with.

"DON'T 'WASSUP' ME, SANS. CARE TO EXPLAIN WHY YOU'RE SLACKING ON PATROL? WE'VE BEEN THROUGH THIS!"

Shrugging casually, Sans continued to dose more water onto the burned area.

"I wasn't slackin' Paps, just simply resting my sockets. My eyes have gone _bone-dry_ from all this patrolling."

Chuckling beneath his breath, Sans couldn't help but tease his younger brother with awful puns. He knew Papyrus hated them.

"OH SANS, NOT ANOTHER PUN. PLEASE."

"I don't know Paps, I think that these puns help you relax. You're always working yourself _down to the bone!_ "

Sans smiled gleefully, entertained by his brother's groans of annoyance, observing him continue to massage his nasal bone. 

Finding his older brother's comedy unpleasant with great displeasure, Papyrus began strutting away from Sans's station. “GOODBYE BROTHER. A HUMAN COULD COME ANY SECOND!"

“I promise I won’t be _bone-tired_ next time~”

"HMPH. THE GREAT PAPYRUS MUST DEPART NOW. DON’T LET ME CATCH YOU SLEEPING ON THE JOB.”

With that, Sans was yet again accompanied by the brisk weather, pupils trailing the crotchety skeleton stomping away, until he blended within the snowy mist. 

This time, he couldn’t feel the spark of joy diminishing from his sternum. He needed something that’ll bring the it back.

* * *

Arisen from his diffused thoughts, Sans was interrupted by the crunch of snow. Pushing himself away from his station, he wavered his head back and forth, concentrating on the noise’s whereabouts, but to no avail. 

Perhaps, it was just some creature roaming about. Or his imagination. Sans wasn’t sure. 

He wasn’t sure of anything, anymore.

The more he blocked the crunching snow out of his mind, the more louder and inescapable the sound intrigued him. The glacial crisps of snow crunching, was all Sans could hear. Nothing else. Just snow crunched consecutively.

Sans shifted his tattered sleeve down, looking down upon his left wrist.

“Why would anyone want to venture around here? This is one of the most boring area’s within Snowdin? Especially this late,” Sans bone ridge frowning slightly. 

"Oh well, that's not my problem," Sans pondered, dusting off the station's surface, leaving for departure.

> _"Give them something I never had the opportunity to give."_

Sans glared into snowing background. It's nothing, promises were meant to be broken eventually, right?

> _“Guide them away from the dangers of the cruel world._ _”_

His soft footsteps gradually became rough, irregular stomps. "Ignore whatever she said, you couldn't keep the promise anyways. Besides, I don't want to get my bro in trouble, over some pesky... human," Sans reasoned, fighting off the women's pleads.

> _“If I lose them, I don’t know what I’ll do. I'm so lost...”_

Sans halted in his tracks. "What are you thinking? You can relate to her, you know what feels to... lose someone."

> _“Please, I'm begging you._

Facing the primeval door sanctioned, Sans observed carefully, eventually allowing her words to replay alike a broken remix. He stood motionlessly, small flakes of snow gradually glazing his jacket. He then ran back to his station. 

“I should probably check it out. Since the disappearances of monsters have been rising, I suppose a quick stroll before returning, wouldn’t hurt. Besides, don't want to break anymore promises.” Inhaled thoroughly, composing himself once more, closing his eye sockets. Concentrating on his ideal location, summoning all the power he had within, before diminishing through the vibrant portal of neon.

Gasping for air desperately, Sans found himself reopening his eye sockets instantly, skull twisting in search of his whereabouts, trembling with droplets of sourness. 

It’s been a while since he mustered the ability to teleport. Even though he never was able to manifest such strength at once, he was always able to relinquish the standardized strength of teleporting towards certain locations with ease.

Now, he could barely teleport without wheezing, ever since his lack of sleep has caused him unwanted problems, weakening him physically and emotionally more than ever. Especially his magical ability.

He was withering. Alone. And he knew his limitations, yet proceeded.

In search of any signs of life roaming about, he swiped the dust-mixed watery redness against his clothing. 

That could await.

Minutes felt like hours to Sans, as he continued to spy the landscape of snow, shielded by the thick forest. “Maybe I’m just paranoid. What’s the point of this?” Sans groaned, smothering his palms against his face. Maybe he should’ve ignored it, leaving the cold weather and towards somewhere warm. Somewhere preventing his nightmares’.

Before Sans mustered the ability to transport himself once again, he heard something within the tranquil evening. 

He heard it. He heard the crunches of snow, but more clearly. Crystal clear.

In a swift motion, he vaguely hunched, peering through the trunks and stems, squinting the slightest. Sans stood frozen, unable to move, sockets examining the incorporated footprints onto the snow.

In front of him strolled a short figure, embarked features hidden by the heavy snowstorm.

“Just who are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the slow update, I was extremely busy the past couple months. Lost track of time, and unfortunately, this chapter's update had been posted later than anticipated. I'll try my best to write more detailed chapters in further months! However, I can guarantee the story's updates will be continuing! Great news! Although the updates may be slow, I hope you stick around and enjoy the progression of the story!
> 
> [Updates every Sat/ Sun fortnight!]


	3. Discretion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> However will Sans get himself out of deep waters?

“Human. Don’t you know how to greet a new pal?”

The figure halted in their tracks. Movement stationary and shoulders unable to stop trembling. Other than the wind’s inconsistent velocity, swaying the fragile branches in a rapid motion, not a single sound erupted expect for their interaction. 

“Turn around and shake my hand.” Now faced directly at Sans, the figure hesitantly levered their arm towards the skeletal palm, eventually connecting a handshake. Explosives of artificial farts suddenly flared, reverberating disturbing echoes, sending booming vibrations. “Heh… The old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. It’s ALWAYS funny.”

Now Sans could grasp a better visual of the figure. With little knowledge on the terminology of humans, Sans could only rely on the knowledge of untouched library books on the verge of dusting, and drunk tales of veterans at Grillby's. Small figure, short height, slobs of overgrown hair, tattered clothes, wrestling the strap of their bag, shredded by clumps of burned holes and grime. The human was nowhere near dangerous.

“Anyways, you’re a human right? That’s hilarious.” Sans finally releases the grip, slyly slipping his palm back into his pocket. The human vaguely tilts their head, signaling a sign of confusion. Sans observes closely, watching the human try to speak, leaving muffled gibberish.

“My name is Frisk,” fingers pirouetting their silent message, the human conveyed their introduction. Shocked by their uncommon language, Sans continued.

“You know sign language? That’s cool. Can you understand what I’m saying?” Sans signed back, watching a small smile transform.

“I can understand you, but reading your mouth movement is... difficult. No offence.” Sans whisper a chuckle.

“None taken. Well, in that case. Nice to meet you, Frisk. I’m Sans. Sans the skeleton,” he causally shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m actually supposed to be on watch for humans. Right now.” Their smile instantly dropped, brows furrowed slightly.

“But… Y'know. I don’t really care about capturing anyone," Sans rambled. “But my brother, Papyrus, on the other hand. He’s a human-hunting FANATIC.” Sans closed his sockets, hearing the relieved sigh escape choke.

“Hey, actually, I think it’s him over there.” 

Frisk signed frantically, small droplets of sweat beginning to emerge. “What do we do?” 

“I have an idea. Go through that gate. My bro made the bars too wide to stop anyone.” Tilting his head in confusion, Sans motioned both hands, shooing them away. “What are you waiting for? An invitation? Quick, hide behind that conveniently shaped lamp.” Sans released a perplexed chuckle, pointing his index finger towards the distance.

Wasting no time, Frisk ran past Sans, and away from the broad bars, leaving nothing but uneven breathing and fidgety fingers entwined. Finally situated away from sight, cowering behind a lamp conveniently shaped to their figure, Frisk observed from afar at a shadowed figure. Striding away from the fog, a tall skeleton continuously stomps their way furiously towards Sans. Halting a fair distance away from him, he puffs out a sigh of irritation, clenching onto his wrinkled battle armor.

“Sup, bro?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT IS ‘SUP’ BROTHER! IT’S BEEN EIGHT DAYS AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T RECALIBRATED YOUR PUZZLES. JUST WHAT IN ASGORE ARE YOU DOING!?”

Right socket twitching, Papyrus once again composes himself, refraining lashing out any anger.

“HMPH! YOU JUST HANG AROUND OUTSIDE YOUR STATION...” 

What are they talking about? Frisk couldn’t decipher their linguistic tongue, conversing back patterns of monotone and pitched chippers of dialogue. Trying their best to decode their conversation, Frisk gave up, knowing nothing but their names. To no avail, they directed their focus to their actions instead, the two skeleton’s verbal actions were well enough noted.

“-ANS. SANS! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING?!?”

“Staring at this conveniently shaped lamp. It’s really cool. Do you wanna join me?” Frisk internally chuckled, as they watched Sans fuel his amusement from his brother’s anger, nonchalantly, as his brother continuously stomped, muddling the smooth snow’s surface. 

Deprived of Sans’s attention, Papyrus fumed, averting his gaze away towards him.

“BROTHER! WE’VE BEEN THROUGH THIS! WE DON’T HAVE TIME TO WASTE! WHAT IF A HUMAN COMES BY!?!” Papyrus huffed. “I WANT TO BE READY! I WILL BE THE ONE. I MUST BE THE ONE! I WILL CAPTURE A HUMAN.”

“Wow bro, you sound really committed. May-haps this funky shaped lamp could help?”

Ignoring his brother's suggestion, Papyrus placed his hands on his hips, smiling ear to ear, skull facing to his left shoulder. Wiping away his fake tear, as he wafted his scarf away, creating a motion of superiority; a hero’s dream entrance. 

“THEN, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL GET ALL THE THINGS I UTTERLY DESIRE!”

“Here we go again,” Sans mumbled, silently sighing his boredom away, as Papyrus prepared for his routined stance.

“RESPECT… RECOGNITION… I WILL FINALLY BE ABLE TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARDS!” Papyrus proposed. “PEOPLE WILL ASK TO BE MY FRIEND. I WILL BATHE IN SHOWERS OF KISSES EVERY MORNING!”

Sans tilted his skull in thought. “Hmm… Maybe this lamp will help you?” 

“...SANS. YOU ARE NOT HELPING! YOU LAZY BONES! HOW CAN YOU GIVE ME ADVICE, WHEN ALL YOU DO IS SIT AND BOONDOGGLE!”

Frozen in his spot, Papyrus pointed his index finger at Sans, who’s smile slowly reached ear to ear.

“Don’t you mean...”

“DON’T YOU DARE FINISH THAT. NO NO, I AM NOT DOING THIS AGAIN-”

“... _Bone-_ doggle.” Stifling a cackle. 

“SANS, YOU ARE GETTING LAZIER EACH DAY GOES BY!”

“Hey, take it easy. I’ve got a _ton_ of work done today. A skele- _ton_.”

Death glaring at the dwarfed skeleton, Papyrus drenched his palm over his face. “SANS.”

“Come on, I can see you smiling.”

“I AM, AND I HATE IT.” His older brother forcefully huffed, cursing his permanent smile as he crossed his arms. "WHY DOES SOMEONE AS GREAT AS ME, HAVE TO DO SO MUCH, JUST TO GAIN RECOGNITION?”

“Wow, it really sounds like you’re working yourself, down to the _bone._ ”

“SANS.”

“Okay okay, I’ll make sure to put a little more _backbone_ into it.”

“I WILL NOW ATTEND TO MY PUZZLES PER USUAL. DON’T BE LATE TO FEAST ON MY DELICIOUS SPAGHETTI TONIGHT, MY DEAR BROTHER. NYEHEHEH!” Walking away proudly, the booming voice eventually faded within the forest, figure cloaked by the fog.

Peering away from the lamp, Frisk scuttled towards Sans awkwardly; tripping over themselves whilst observing their surroundings. The both of them stood side by side, as little flakes of snow gracefully landed on their heads.

“That should keep him away for a while. No need to worry, he’s harmless. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Before even facing Sans, the dwarfed skeleton had vanished without a trace. “Wow,” Frisk thought. “What a strange guy.” 

“Do you think he saw me?” Frisk shrugged, shushing the small figure, placing their finger in front of their lips. Frisk continued to travel, clutching onto something sharp. 

Something stained with small particles of white powder.

* * *

“Kid? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I forgot to thank you for saving me earlier.” Frisk signed. 

The small town of Snowdin glowed with life throughout the evening. Late bars sung sloppy jazzy tunes, many shops began closing for the day, adolescent youths chased one another down the dim alleyways and small passages, chatter continuously chimed. The adjacent lights reflected tinted orange shades, blinding the thick fog from spread, twisting around the forest branches, colliding with the warmth, pirouetting within the neighboring houses, from slyly seething through the small cracks and crannies of the town, amongst the brisk night. 

“Uhh, your welcome? I didn’t do much. But how did you find me?”

“Some dog in a shiny armor told me so.” Frisk smiled proudly, arm crossed. Sans’s smile faltered slightly.

“Wait a minute. Shiny armor?”

“Yeah, they were so nice that they-”

“Shit.”

The thundering crunches of footprints imprinted the ground. As the figure marched forwards, heads turned, whispers erupting, as a broad shadow maneuvered towards Sans. Grabbing Frisk’s forearm, Sans dragged them behind him, shielding their gaze.

“Sans. Long time no see.”

“Heh, s’been a while, Cap.”

“Captain.”

“Same ol’, same ol. Don’t see no difference.”

Armored figure huffing scornfully, they continued. “What are you doing out so late? It’s not safe to hang around at a time like this.”

“Aw, Captain’s concerned about her _favorite_ comedian?”

“One, yes I am. I’m serious. You know why" lifting their thumb up." And two, false.”

“Yeah yeah Cap, I know.” Sans nonchalantly sighed. Shuffling nervously behind the tattered jacket, the figure took notice.

“Sans, who’s behind you?” 

“Don’t mind them, they’re just a friend.”

“Why can’t I see them?”

“They’re just, uh… shy. Ya’know.” Unfazed by Sans's counterfeits, the figure folded their arms together, lifting their head high. “No, I don’t. Due to the recent crime increase, I must request identification from your friend.”

Nervously, Sans skeletal palm reached for Frisk’s arm.

“P-R-E-P-A-R-E-Y-O-U-R-S-E-L-F,” Sans finger spelt behind his back, signaling Frisk his message desperately.

“No can do Cap, they’re too drunk to process your words.”

“It’s just hardly dusk.”

“And? You’re judging those who get drunk before evening? Yeesh...”

“That’s not what I-”

“Then we’ll be on our way, if you don’t mind.”

Grabbing onto Sans’s free hand immediately, the Captain grasped roughly onto Sans’s jacket sleeve, yanking him towards them. Hearing of their heavy heaves, Frisk could see the figure clearly, poking their head away from her shield of safety. Long streaks of red hair bursting through the back of their detailed helmet, as thick plads of silverware armor coating their physique. The Captain towered over Sans and Frisk, huffing out faint steams of heat from their helmet, shining a Now Frisk knew why the figure earned the title of ‘Captain’.

“Sans, I don't wish to interrogate you. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No? Why wouldn’t I be?” Shifting backwards slightly, Sans’s palm clutched Frisk’s arm tighter, breath barely kept under control. Sweat trailing down slowly, he continued to compose himself. Sans was running out of ideas.

“Must I repeat myself? I will ask you this once, and only once. May I see your friend-”

The uproar if sudden shatter of glass impeached the atmosphere, seizing the attention of Snowdin residents, and those passing by. Dashing inelegantly back out the window was a large knightley figure, cacophony smudges of dirt and snow embraced by the fallen soldier, sending bundles of glass shards along. Not even a second goes by, when several drunk customers begin to continuously topple the singular guard, forming a mass clump, as nearby guards attempt to pry the group away.

“Urghh, not again. Grillby really needs to implement that bullet-resistant glass, along with keeping them under control! Stupid drunk customers, causing stupid unnecessary drama…” Her mumbled complaints were soon discarded, as she stormed off to assist her comrades. She became infatuated by directing her goal elsewhere, attention focusing away from the duo.

“Hold on tight,” Sans signed. Frisk clasped onto his sleeve once more, before leaving nothing but swirls of cyan magic, slowly fading before the Captain could discover their disappearance.

* * *

“That was close. You alright, kid?”

Swaying dangerously, Frisk managed to respond by nodding vigorously. Sans couldn’t tell whether they were dizzy from his transportation, or merely fascinated by his magical abilities.

“How did you do that?” Frisk signed eagerly. 

“How about we talk this over dinner? I’m sure you’re hungry. I don’t think we can go to Grillby’s. That place seems a lil’ _fishy_ after that commotion.” Appointing their gaze towards the blazing sign of the restaurant, they entered through the automatic doors.

Seating themselves down in the empty diner, their ordered meals were then served before the green fiery waitress scuttled away. "Where was everyone," Sans thought, "maybe tonight is a special night."

“Like this place? This is the MTT Resort. Fancy, but it’ll make your pockets hurt after one stay.” Sans continued to sip his ketchup, observing Frisk, curiously chewing the popular over-garnished dish: The Face Steak.

“How is it? Hope you can withstand the painful amount of garnish. Heh.” Summoning a thumbs up, Frisk recommenced their feast. The soft harmonious tunes stringed from the stage soothed the spacious room with ease; a sense of comfort and security. Apart from the dim lights, the candles were the only source of brightness, illuminating clearer visuals. No one was there to disturb their conversation. Dining alone. Only Sans and Frisk. Just and only them.

Consuming his final sip of the red condiment, Sans released a relaxed sigh, before talking.

“While you’re eating, let me tell you a story, kid.”

Raising their head from the plate, Frisk eagerly listened, chewing ever so often.

“My job is a sentry in Snowdin. I sit out there and watch for humans, like you. It’s kind of boring.” Gazing out of a window, Sans let out a deep exhale.

“Fortunately, deep in the forest, there’s this _huge_ locked door. Barely budges. Very solid for sure. And it’s perfect for practicing knock-knock jokes.”

Frisk halts their chewing.

“So one day, I’m knocking ‘em out, per usual.”

“What do you do?” Frisk signed.

“I knock on the door, and say “knock knock.” Like I always do.” 

“Then suddenly, from the other side, I hear a woman's voice replying to my joke,” Sans chuckles beneath his breath, sockets drooping slightly.

> “So naturally, I respond: _Dishes_.
> 
> _Dishes_ who? She replied.
> 
> _Dishes_ a very bad joke.”

Frisk places their utilities down, palms clasped together, listening carefully.

“After that, she would howl in laughter, as if that’s the best joke she’s ever heard!”

“Heh. So I keep em’ coming, and she keeps laughing. After a dozen of them, she returns the favor of horrific knock-knock puns.”

“How was she?” Frisk signed motionlessly, back hunched ever so slightly.

“She’s the best audience I’ve ever had, if I’m being honest.”

Sans places his skeletal palm beneath jaw, lightly cupping it, as he closes his sockets; reminiscing the past.

“Needless to say, this woman was extremely good,” playing with his empty wine glass, Sans continued to ramble.

“We would return jokes back and forth for hours. Eventually, I had to leave. Papyrus gets cranky without his bedtime story,” Frisk stifles a small laugh. Papyrus was Papyrus after all.

“It was a daily routine. I would slack off during sentry patrolling hours to joke with her. She would return god awful puns back. Nothing really changed. Telling bad jokes through a door. It rules.”

Sans suddenly goes quiet, withdrawing the gaze away from the window. The instrumental’s musical tunes disappear. Frisk doesn’t move a muscle, only shifting in their seat awkwardly once in a while. No crickets chirping, no strings strung, no delayed static. Everything went silent.

“One day, I noticed she wasn’t laughing as much as she used to. I asked her, and she told me something strange.”

“She requested… a promise.”

“What… What promise did she wanted you to keep?”

“Watch over them, and protect them, will you not?” The duo returned to the eerie silence. Chills of uncertainty washed over Sans. It was difficult talking about sensitive topics for him. Why should he feel the need to fix.

“I hate making promises, and I don’t even know her name. Still don’t,” a strained chuckle sprung out. "However, someone who sincerely likes bad jokes, has an integrity you simply can’t say ‘no’ to.”

“I think you know what I mean, kid. That promise I made to that woman,” Sans stared at Frisk, watching their head lower gradually. The music instantly died down, not a sound was made, other than the fierce cackling of the candle flame. The candles quivered slightly, teasing the flames to wing left to right. But there was no wind. None of them moved out of fear.

“Listen closely, because I’m not going to repeat myself.” Frisk’s head stayed stationary, shaggy locks covering their eyes. They are no longer shifting uncomfortably in their seat.

“Suppose you know what happened to her. Buddy…” Sans placed his hands into his pockets, pursuing his stare. “You dare disrupt the lives of the innocents for your own entertainment, especially my brother. You’d be dead where you stand.”

“... Ahaha.”

Sans’s pupil’s return to their normal state. How could someone laugh at such a serious topic. Focusing his gaze onto Frisk, the human seemed different. They sat still in their seat, not moving a muscle, daring to not peep a sound.

Before Sans could question their actions, he felt a slither of coolness on the back of his cerebellum again. “It was cold in the MTT Resort, always has been far too freezing, right?” Sans joked, even his internal thoughts seemed to cheer him up. Then he felt a hand gently squeeze his arm. Then he felt strands of short hair dribble down his shoulder. Eying the person for more detail was the worst choice of Sans’s life. With a smile curved slightly, their bletchley and pale skin was etched with thick goo of black, constantly dripping down from their eyes to their cheeks. 

Sans wondered if he was hallucinating. Or Frisk could see them too.

"Kid?"

Looking back at Frisk for assistance, Sans found nothing but more horrific confusion. Everything about them was still intact: their still stance, silence. But their eyes. Their eyes were now squinted, revealing a shimmering glint of crimson red glow. Palms cupped together, they averted their attention towards Sans. It was as if they were a different person.

“You’re next,” the figure whispered into Sans’s ear, before vanishing into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back! Hope you guys didn't miss me too much! Unfortunately, it seems that the weekly updates would have to be rescheduled to fortnightly. I hope you guys understand! (Chp 4 will be up soon, don't lose hope by ditching this fan-fiction-)
> 
> EDIT 09/03/21: Nevermind about the update part. Unfortunately, I won't be updating until the near end of March, due to exam season. Until then, please be patient and enjoy the wild ride for future chapters!

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Updates every Saturday/Sunday per fortnight


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